Génoise Rose

This is the plainest cake we've made so far. In fact, if there were a list of "plain and simple" cakes, this would top the list, and if you're a Frosting Person, rather than a Cake Person, this cake is not going to appeal to you. But it's a little like comparing a delicate violet to a big, gaudy tree peony. The violet is not going to blow you away, but it does have a certain charm of its own.
Speaking of lists, this could be on the Quick and Easy list. I know that génoise is supposed to be tricky, but if you follow Rose's directions, you won't go wrong.

It's all about beating the eggs. Joan pointed out a video on Rose's blog that recommends a full ten minutes of beating on high speed to get the eggs to the right volume. I've found that 5 is enough, and beating for longer than that doesn't get you any more volume, but you'll want to experiment for yourselves. The change from raw eggs to a lovely, billowy mixture is one of my favorite kitchen alchemies. I also love the way that spinach goes from something to almost nothing in 60 seconds. Not to mention the miracle of pate choux.
But back to the subject at hand.

The other secret is sifting the flour (and cornstarch). I must include this picture because Jim is always thrilled at the prospect of taking a picture of a flour-sifting event. He grabs his camera and shoots. I suppose that when we were married, some 43 years ago, I wouldn't have believed that his eyes would light up when he saw me reach for the flour sifter, but sometimes life takes such unexpected turns.

Then it's just a question of mixing the flour in with the egg mixture, and the clarified butter (or beurre noisette) into everything. If you're ever going to make beurre noisette, this is the time to do it. Unlike, say, the peanut butter financiers, which have other strong flavors--mostly peanut butter--this cake is primarily flavored by butter, and the slightly nutty flavor added by the browned butter is very helpful. (My daughter praised its slight almond flavor until I told her it had no almonds--she was just tasting the butter).

Going into the oven as batter....

And coming out as cake.
The only thing left to do is brush it with a syrup made from sugar, water, and Triple Sec (or orange juice). I brushed and brushed, and used only about half the syrup. I stopped because I was afraid the cake would get soggy, but I needn't have worried. It wasn't at all soggy, and more syrup would only have added to the flavor.

It still needed a little something, so I added a few raspberries--artfully placed, or so I hoped--to the platter.

And served it with a bit of whipped cream, because even though it may not need frosting, it didn't suffer from the addition of whipped cream.
I'll confess that I didn't bake this cake a day before serving. For a change, it wasn't because I didn't notice the "Plan Ahead" warning. It was just that we were away from town on Friday and Saturday, and I needed a cake for Sunday. Since we had leftovers, we both tried the cake again on Monday, and were surprised that it really did make a difference. It was both more flavorful and more tender the second time around. So follow the directions.

A close-up from Jim's new camera:

TASTING PANEL:
James: "Yummy."
Sarah: "It has a very delicate flavor. It's the perfect base for the fruit and cream."
Jim: "It seems a little unsubstantial on its own, but it's great with the berries and whipped cream."